04-29-2013, 12:45 PM
After the Diagnosis
The doctor speaks, and I imagine
they take us to different warehouses
to calibrate statistics.
In mine, there are 44,000 beds
colored appropriately for outcome.
The white ones clustered near
the exit for efficiency.
From above, it must look like a sliver
of new moon against an expanding
black universe. There are of course
other warehouses, other phases
of the moon--though never full
in this pockmarked emptiness.
The doctor speaks, and I imagine
they take us to different warehouses
to calibrate statistics.
In mine, there are 44,000 beds
colored appropriately for outcome.
The white ones clustered near
the exit for efficiency.
From above, it must look like a sliver
of new moon against an expanding
black universe. There are of course
other warehouses, other phases
of the moon--though never full
in this pockmarked emptiness.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson